Chapter 36: Truce?

“What are YOU doing here?” Jane asked, as she reached the front door of the bakery, suspicious of Arthur before he uttered a simple greeting.

“I’m picking up a friend that I carpool with, if you must know.” Arthur responded gruffly, to mirror her initial hostile mood and frosty, cold tone.

“Hmmph,” she grunted, not satisfied with the answer, yet also not able to find fault with it. Along with the career role of corporate litigation attorney, she also excelled in the vocation of ice queen.

“But since you’re here and I’m early, would you care to have a seat and talk?” he inquired, trying to put Jane as much at ease as possible.

“Alright. I’m here and you’re here. What do you want to discuss? I can’t help with any of those American bar topics, though.”

“No, Jane. I’ve got it covered. I spent a year and two summers studying. This is basically a review. I wanted to talk about something else. Something personal. Something important; very important.”

“Ohhhh-kaaay.” Jane was so self-absorbed, absolutely selfish, and had such a low emotional intelligence that she had no idea what Arthur wanted to discuss. She assumed, of course, that it was about her.

“We’ve been friends for life and grew up together. We went to school together. We worked together. It’s easy to assume that we would be in each others’ lives forever or even together in a romantic way. But no matter how good it looks on paper, sometimes our hopes and dreams for a compatible, amicable, lifelong mate can fail in real life without a foundation in true friendship, the precursor to true love.”

“I see...”, she sighed, thinking before that this might be the way that he would work up towards getting the confidence to propose. They had known each other forever; she had reached her professional goals and was on the fast track to partner this year, freeing up her time to plan a wedding and then start having babies. It was about time. She sat up straight and tried to feign sincere interest in each of his measured words until he’d kneel down and gave her the ring.

“I think that you should call a truce with Rachel. You and I are not a couple, never have been a couple, and never will be a couple. Please don’t threaten her because a romantic relationship between you and me is what you wanted yet it never happened. I don’t belong to you, Jane. I want to be clear. I am not yours to fight over. Stop. Threatening. Rachel.”

She tuned back in to his speech the instant he said the name ‘Rachel’. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but I was just...helping out. You and I have the same education and professional background to be and have anything we want; together we could lasso the moon.” How could he pick someone like Rachel as her rival? It was hard to be jealous of someone she thought did not measure up in looks, intelligence, or power.

“It does not matter what rationale or invented justification you may have for what you were doing, but it was mean and I will not tolerate that from you. I am not your man. I don’t want to be your man. Stop fighting for me. We won’t be hanging out any more and we will be distant associates, former school mates, but never friends. A cordial greeting to her when you come into the bakery or see her on the street, at the pub or anywhere else in public, is all that is required of you. Please give her the polite greeting that I expect you to give me after this conversation.”

“Arthur, no, please listen, I only thought of OUR future...I could make a good wife for you.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jane. There is no third person plural when it comes down to it: no ‘we’, no ‘our’, no ‘us’. Please be a lady on your way out and know when it’s time to leave. Please also do so without making a scene, of course, should be your top priority. You work in London, not in Clovelly; there is no reason for you to spend so much time at this bakery or expel so much anger at Rachel because you think she is your rival or for any other reason that would lead you to dare to talk to her. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Arthur,” Jane reluctantly agreed, with tearful eyes and her head bowed and shoulders slumped down with the posture of defeat. She sneaked one last look at Rachel, still unwilling to see her then as the better woman.

Arthur and Jane both stood up at the same time. Jane left in silence. Arthur stayed and walked over to be closer to Rachel, who was listening to the whole conversation from behind the counter, to comfort and console her.

“She’s gone,” he kindly whispered to her. “If she EVER verbally abuses you again with threats or intimidation or even criticizes you publicly or privately in any way that makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, I want you to promise that you’ll tell me and let me handle it. As of now, she knows where she stands and that her bullying behavior will not be tolerated.”

Rachel came from around the counter near the cash register and hugged Arthur. He kissed her on the forehead.

“Rachel, there is something I left out of what I said to you the other night when I asked you not to leave Clovelly,” he said, looking from her deep soulful eyes to her sensuous mouth. “I wanted to tell you something that I have been running away from but I am now willing to accept if you feel the same way.”

“Tell me, Arthur. I’m all ears and safe in your arms.”

“Ok,” he cleared his throat then gently cupped her head with his hands, took a few deep breaths, and started with, “Rachel, I...”

Faye showed up unexpectedly in front of them with a very concerned look in her eyes. Rachel felt her heart skip a beat. “Excuse me, folks. I don’t want to interrupt, but we have a serious problem. Adopted granddaughter and beloved godson, we need to talk before it’s too late. I have some terrible news, you two, and soon everyone will know.”